Dorian's secret
by Phlegethorn Space
Summary: After a long trip to Japan, Dorian returns to London a changed man, and better still, he no longer needs his picture. One-shot based on "A picture of Dorian Gray".


Short story i wrote

"Would you like some?" Dorian swigged from the bottle of vodka once more. Flicking his pink tongue across his lips slowly, tasting the flavour the bottle neck had left, his eyes never leaving the girl standing before him. She was standing with her back to a floor to ceiling length mirror fidgeting nervously, and as Dorian extended the hand holding the bottle he flashed her a cheeky grin which her made her blush in the candle light. Harriet looked at the bottle timidly before shaking her head a fraction of an inch from side to side

"No thank you, I don't drink"

Dorian smiled a mischievous smile, his eyes still fixed on the clearly curious but slightly intimidated girl opposite him.

"What are you afraid of?" the question wasn't genuine, it was designed to make you feel inadequate and as Dorian's piercing green eyes bored into Harriet she felt a thirst to prove herself. She took the bottle from his hands and unscrewed the lid not breaking the stare Dorian was giving her. As the bottle got closer to her lips she could smell the strength of the alcohol and it caught in her throat and caused a tickle. She took a sip. The liquid was hard to swallow and left her throat burning but she didn't let herself cough or splutter and were as Dorian had been making her feel uneasy ever since they came up stairs he now flashed her that winning smile that had led her into his arms in the first place. She smiled back, the taste of the alcohol still strong in her mouth as she blushed. Dorian looked her up and down once more then without another word he stepped forward unexpectedly, his hands finding her waist his mouth finding hers. Harriet was lost. Her arms fell limply by her side and her legs felt weak beneath her as his lips met hers. He was so gentle she barely felt him yet he seemed to be radiating some sort of hot, dangerous energy. And it scared her.

"Do you want know a secret" Dorian's whisper only just carried to Harriet's ear's and the edge in his voice made her shiver. She wanted to say no. no she didn't want to know a secret, she wanted to go back down stairs and leave as soon as possible. But before she'd managed to compose a polite excuse to leave the room Dorian spoke again

"Turn around" his hands were still on her waist and as she turned to face the mirror she felt his grip tightened slightly. Her eye's found the reflection of the door and she began working out if she could make it to the hallway where she could cry for help before he pulled her back. The bed was in the way, she'd have get round out it quickly somehow. She felt him move even closer, she could now feel the toned muscles of his stomach pressed against her back and some sort of pendant on a chain round his neck. Harriet could sense his eye's drilling into her as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and she tore her eyes away from the bed and the door to turn and look over her shoulder at him. He was grinning childishly as if he knew something important she didn't. His eyes where looking straight ahead to the mirror and he nodded slightly forward and said

"Look" Harriet frowned in confusion. He looked ecstatic with excitement and as she looked back at the mirror to see what he was looking at she gasped in shock.

Harriet's first thought was that the mirror was broken.

Looking into it she could see that the room was empty apart from her. But that was nonsense she could feel Dorian's chin resting on her shoulder. She could hear him laughing in her ear.

"What….." she trailed off not finishing the sentence because now Dorian had stopped laughing and everything had gone eerily silent. The distant hum of chatter from downstairs had gone and the room was now filled with a draft. Harriet barely registered the last word Dorian whispered briefly in her ear. All her attention was still transfixed on the spot in the mirror where Dorian should be.

"Vampire" she heard the single word, but it had no meaning to her. It was a myth, a story for children, nothing more than a legend. But as she felt the sharp pain in her neck and saw the beads on blood dripping down to stain her white corset realisation crept in like mist covering the surface of a lake. Harriet barely felt the weight of Dorian lift off her neck. And as she fell to the floor, her legs too weak to let her stand, she saw through eye's blurred with tears what looked like a figure open the window and casually jump of.

40 foot below Dorian landed swiftly on his feet as if he'd just jumped off a low wall. Straightening the creases in his now blood stained tuxedo Dorian wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve then brought out the miniature bottle of vodka from his pocket and proceeded to finish the rest, a dark chuckle rising through his throat at the knowledge of the sin he had committed this night.


End file.
